Blurry Photographs
by AgentLucario
Summary: Craig moves to Chicago and working at Frank's Video Store has it's perks when a certain twitchy blonde immerses himself in celluloid fantasies. "Good, because when you love them, they drive you crazy because they know they can."
1. Chicago

**Obviously I'm going to introduce Tweek later in the story. Be patient with me you guys. You could say that this chapter is a "pilot"...of some sort. Disclaimer: I do not own South Park**

Today my family was moving to Chicago. Which explains the empty walls, floors, and scattered cardboard boxes labeled with what it contains. I woke up this morning from the floor. Luckily it was carpet, so nothing to complain about here. My dad was arguing with mom yesterday about how every single piece of furniture, clothing, and kitchen wear should be packed up and ready to load on the Penske trucks tomorrow afternoon. This included the mattresses and the blanket.

"Craig! Come on, we're going to get McDonalds for breakfast!" My mom called me from downstairs.

"Okay, give me a minute." I called back. I walked across the hall to my bathroom to quickly wash my dry face with water and brush my teeth with my finger and the minimum amount of Crest toothpaste we had left, since dad even packed the full or half empty tubes of toothpaste. I didn't change since last night because I thought it be too much of a hassle to get clothes this morning while everyone was rushing to load the boxes into the truck. I didn't care, I was wearing a worn down Zombies t-shirt and jeans.

"Craig!" My mom irritatingly called me once again.

"I'm coming!" I fixed my bed head for the last few seconds I had. When I ran downstairs, I found my family waiting in the car for me. I climbed in the back seat with my little sister.

My dad adjusted his mirror to look at me. "Boy, what the hell took you so long?" Really, he couldn't just turn around and face me.

I ran my fingers through my hair irritably. "Dad, I took literally two minutes washing my face and brushing my teeth."

"Why do you need to brush your teeth? The hell, we're going to McDonalds to eat."

My mom huffed. "For god's sake, just drive! I'm hungry." Dad turned on the ignition and started driving.

"Mom, I want hot cakes and sausages, and scrambled eggs, and orange juice, and a muffin." Ruby counted her fingers. "What do you want, Craig?"

_...I want you to shut the fuck up_. "I just want an egg mcmuffin."

"My dad scoffed. "Well if that's all your gonna get, don't be complaining to me about how hungry you get when we're on the road to Chicago. I'm not stopping at every gas station to get ho-ho's and twinkies."

We pulled up by Micky D's. Nothing like seeing a bunch of whining kids eating future diagnosed diabetes and clogged arteries in the morning. Yum.

"We're gonna go grab a table, order for us." Dad handed me his debit card.

"I don't even know what you want."

"Two big breakfasts, fruit oatmeal, and whatever you want." He went looking for a table in the back with my mom and sister. My dad didn't like to be around people, I guess we have that much in common.

I walked up to the cashier looking at the menu. "Can I get two big breakfasts...one blueberry maple oatmeal...and one bacon,egg and cheese...bagel..?" I stopped ordering. It seems that I happen to be interrupting the cashier's crucial conversation with 'Keyona' about her man 'Jerome'.

She cackled, clapping her hands. "Oh my god Keyona, no let me tell you, that damn boy finna get his ass jumped if he do that one more time. Uh-uh, no, and I tell that bitch she better stop calling him-" Finally she notices me, and scoffs. "Hold up girl, lemme call you back." She flips her phone shut. "Tsk, what you want?" She scratches her drawn eyebrows in annoyance.

I just stare at her. "I'd like to order my food."

"Well what else you come to McDonalds for? To buy some damn car insurance?" She waved her hands around.

"Obviously not to listen to your conversation that no one gives a shit about listening, and not doing your job."

She raised her god forsaken eyebrows. "Okay-"

Just then another cashier steps in holding her back. "Alright Bianca, your shifts over, take a break." He said.

"Mhm, your damn right it is." She leaves.

The new young cashier smiled at me. "I'm sorry about that, that seems to happen a lot, what would you like to order?"

I gave him my order. He nodded punching in the numbers. I paid. I got my food. I thanked him. I want to get out of here, but to do that, I had to eat quickly. I quickly walked over to our table, setting down the trays.

"Dig in."

As we ate, despite the squealing children, my mother asked me a question. "Honey, did you say goodbye to your friends?"

"What friends?" I scoffed.

She shot me a stern look. "Craig, did you?"

"Yeah, yeah I did. I'm not going to get sentimental, I can't wait to leave this place." I looked around.

"Oh and all the friends you're going to make at your new school." She smiled with excitement. "You excited?"

I shrugged. I didn't really care.

Ruby wiped her mouth. "I'm gonna miss Karen...Kenny said he's going to mail all the letters she sends me."

"That's nice, sweety."

My dad swallowed his hotcakes. "Thank god, I don't want you hanging around that boy Kenny, he's nothing but trouble."

I looked at him. "You don't even know him, okay?"

"I see him doing drugs, smoking."

I shook my head. "That's just what you heard."

Ruby poked my stomach repeatedly. "Someone has a crussshh." She sang. My dad rolled his eyes drinking his coffee.

"Shutup, Ruby." I waved her fingers off. She giggled.

We left the restaurant, and finally this town. We hit the road around one towards Chicago. I wasn't nostalgic about leaving town, but I wasn't happy.


	2. Samurai Sword?

The house we moved into was three stories. A grayish-bluish house with the most hideous green door I've ever seen. It had half assed carvings designed into it, so If that door was ever vandalized I think I'd be relieved.

I picked the attic as my room. It was small, but bearable. The thing is, there's another platform of the roof outside my window. It's my own 'fancy veranda'. I have a good view of our small yard, and the other neighbors yards, along with their garage roofs.

My Chinese neighbors we're fighting. I could hear them because they're window was open, and whatever they we're cooking smelled amazing. The packet of Malboro cigarettes I had was almost empty. Three days of driving to Chicago with your family doesn't really give any teenager the chance to freely smoke, unless I wanted my dad to beat the shit out of me. My mouth formed an 'O' and I exhaled the bitter-sweet nicotine. The solidarity up here was nice. In the basement, my dad was setting up his bow tie collection that I had yet to understand. Ruby and my mother we're arguing over a room, whether or not to make it Ruby's room or a meditation room. I had no desire to breath in a house pervaded with Indian incents.

Earlier today while bringing in the boxes, my neighbors introduced themselves. The married couple was nice. The wife was quite attractive, not to be creepy. I mean, there wasn't a single gray hair on her short, brown hair. The husband though, greeted me by saying, "I'm sure glad a family moved in. Another child abductor would've really busted my balls." His voice was chillingly calm. They also mentioned they had a son about the same age as me.

I paused smoking for a moment when I heard distant grunting. I got up to search where the sound was coming from.

What the hell?

What was my neighbor doing slicing a samurai sword against a tree? I shifted closer against the edge of the roof to get a better look of him, but crouched down so he wouldn't notice me. This guy was swinging a real samurai sword around, kicking the air, and making karate chops toward nothing.

I'm starting to wonder whether I liked this neighborhood or not. Of course it's more calming than the hell hole of South Park. One day you'll be buying ice cream with your friends, then the next minute a giant, destructive, robotic Barbra Streisand would be singing a duet with Jesus in the form of Neil Diamond. Or a talking towel would be smoking marijuana.

"Craig! Dinner!" My mom called me.

"Shit!" I hissed. "Be right there!" I called back. I threw out the cigarette and climbed back into my room, grabbing a bottle of axe spray from my toiletry box.

Downstairs I saw pizza on the table. "Jeez mom, we stopped at enough fast food restaurants along the road trip, are you trying to get me fat?"

"No honey, I still need to go shopping, this is probably just for today." She sniffed the air, confused. "Are you...wearing cologne?"

I shrugged.

"Damn it son, we get back from a three day trip and you wanna spray yourself with cologne instead of shower?" My dad chewed his pizza.

I grabbed a slice of pizza. "I wanted to save yourselves from fainting of my repulsive stench."

My mom reached into her purse, handing me her card. "Here, when you finish eating go to the grocery store two blocks down and get the usual."

"What is the usual?"

"After all the times you empty the kitchen pantry, you don't know what I usually buy?"

I shrugged.

She sighed. "I'll make a list."

After I ate, I made my way to the grocery store two blocks down. I strolled down the sidewalk, observing the neighborhood. It was pretty small, and it was just outside the actual city with a dim vista of the skyscrapers. I finally reached the convenience store, and a man with a possum shirt who shined the window to the video store next to the store glanced at me. Then said, "Don't think I've ever seen you before."

A bit startled, I asked him. "How would you know?"

He chuckled. "Kids from my school always come this store for chips. It's junk food paradise in there." He continued sprayed the bottle of Windex.

"I just moved in."

He nodded. "Oh hey, you start school tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "Unfortunately. "

"Don't be." He smiled. "My school's really cool, they won't beat the new kid up."

I nodded awkwardly and walked inside the store. I realized I didn't even introduce myself or say goodbye.

Inside the small store, the cashier looked up from his playboy magazine and greeted me. "Sup, dude." He had a beard and a red shirt with a picture of a man that resembled him and the word 'PIZZA' in plain font. I nodded towards him and made my way through several small aisles to find the 'usual'.

After going through every aisle, I set down the groceries that fumbled in my arms.

The cashier closed his magazine. "Dumbass, you would've grabbed a cart."

"Carts are against my religion."

He snorted. "What religion is that?"

"There's this section in fine print in the back of the Bible, it goes like, 'thou shall not carry baskets in grocery stores with bearded dudes', or something."

"Oh yeah I think I know what your talking about." He scanned the bread and milk. "You know it's not everyday a teenager comes in here buying milk, eggs, and other essential goods."

"It's for my mom."

"Well aren't you an angel?"

Just then the store's door flew open. The person who stumbled in the door was panting, as if he ran for his life to get to a grocery store, like he was in dire need of Cocoa Puffs. But I recognized his fucking messy blond hair and enormous flickering eyes.

"Hey Tweek, what's the matter?" The cashier asked.

He would twitch and mutter inhumanly sounds. "I need a first aid man! I'm fucking dying!"

"Woah man, calm down, I don't see any blood on you."

He ran up to him. And that's when I remembered this twitchy human being was my neighbor with the samurai sword. He probably cut himself while fighting his battle to the death with his tree. He held up his outer wrist to the cashier. "Paul, I'm telling you! Look at that slash right there! I'm going to get infected, die, all because you didn't help me!" He screeched, pointing an accusing finger at Paul.

Paul paused for a moment to look at my neighbor, 'Tweek', in the eye. "Look me in the eye and tell me your going to die."

Tweek twitched.

"My dad was in Vietnam. Wanna know what happened to him?"

"You told me before."

"Tell me."

"His nose got shot off."

"That's right. Now if you got the balls to say your going to die for some cat scratch, I'll really give you something to cry about."

Tweek would simultaneously utter undecipherable sounds quietly. "But-"

"But nothing!" Paul reached for the shelf behind him and set down a box of Dora the Explorer band-aids. "Here, you use this to aid that 'wound'. "

Grunting, Tweek took the band-aids. "Fine, but if I don't go to school tomorrow, I'm holding you accountable."


	3. Tweek Tweek

I wasn't having any high expectations about junior year or the new school. I was running late anyway, what was there to expect? First off, my mom had to stop me before I could run off to say she loves me, and I couldn't find my way through the paradoxal labyrinth of a school. The hallways were huge, there were at least five floors, and the classrooms weren't in any specific pattern other than room numbers, but room 100 could be on floor three and room 101 could be on floor five.

Being ten minutes late for your first class does not give a good impression of yourself as 'an ideal student'. That was my Spanish teacher's warm welcome towards me.

Spanish class basically consisted of me panting in exhaustion from running floor to floor, disrupting the class by unloading shit from my backpack since I couldn't find my locker in time, and Ms. Juarez stopping her lectures to stare at me impatiently.

British Literature went better than I thought. It is my favorite subject. Lunch was fifth period, I didn't bring a lunch. If you're wondering what went on this morning to cause me to be late, it was because Ruby spilled her lucky charms in the car halfway out of the driveway. My dad went ballistic, halted the car, and ran into the house to grab paper towels.

I honestly did not even want to step foot in the cafeteria. Everyone knew each other, and I'll be the awkward turtle waddling in and trying to find a seat with someone who's just going to whisper about me to their friend. And don't get me wrong, I'm not going to act like this is one of those movies were the new kid gets beaten by the jocks and I'm totally helpless, blah blah, boo hoo. I guess I had a disappointing morning.

Right next to the entrance of the cafeteria, was an empty seat. I quickly took it, hoping no one from the other crowded tables spotted me. The table was almost empty except for five people on the other end. One of the girls with the frizzy hair and over sized sweater scooted across from me.

"Hi." Her eyes blinked inside her wide lensed glasses. She clutched her torn apart notebook.

"Hey."

"Are you new?"

I nodded.

"Where are you from?"

I wasn't going to answer South Park, even to a girl like this, if anyone knew I grew up in a hick town I'd probably be labeled a hillbilly. "I'm from Colorado."

She nodded. "Cool. I'm from Chicago." No shit. "But my parents are from Russia. The potatoes are good there. I tried to make potato pancakes but they turned out soggy."

I nodded slowly, unsure what to say.

Approaching me from a few tables down was a familiar man. He smiled at me as if he knew me. "Hey new guy."

"H-hey, do I...?"

"I'm video store guy, come sit with us." He waved me over. I followed him towards his table, leaving behind the russia potato girl. Thank god I at least made some decent acquaintances.

Walking towards his table, I spotted my neighbor sitting alone on the other end of the table across from the video store guy's table.

"This is Joseph and Nick." He introduced me to his friends. They looked pretty laid back.

We sat down. "Hey." I greeted them. "Do you have a name?"

He laughed. "I'm David." He held out his hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Craig."

"How do you know my name?"

"I take Spanish with you if you didn't notice."

"So, Craig." Joseph said. "How are you diggin Chicago?" Joe wore a beanie, with a sweater that said 'five dollar foot long' pointing towards his crotch.

"It's...nice?"

"I don't like it either." He shook his head. "Some day I'm moving to Seattle. Where are you from?"

I sighed. "Colorado."

"Isn't there like maple trees and moose and shit there?" Nick asked.

Joe scoffed. "Dumbass, that's Canada."

"Don't call me a dumbass, asswipe."

"I wouldn't call you a dumbass if you weren't a dumbass, dumbass."

This bickering reminded me of home, with Kyle and Cartman fighting over petty situations. I looked over at the other table, with my neighbor cornered at the end of the table sipping his thermos.

"Hey do any of you guys know his name?" I pointed towards him. I knew his name was Tweek but I wanted to know more about him.

"Who?" David searched for where I was pointing to. "Him? He's Tweek, why?"

"He's my neighbor." I shrugged.

Joe scoffed. "Tweek. What a stupid name, where his parents high or something?"

Nick laughed. "It's like a bird or something, tweek tweek.

David stared at him. "That's tweet tweet, you retard. What college are you even going to?"

"Your mom goes to college." Nick sneered in his poor attempt to insult. "You know what you guys, the pig says moo in Japan, I'm not shitting you. So before you go educating me on animal sounds, think twice." He angrily chewed his trail mix.

"That's Japan, they make penis bread so it doesn't count."

"Don't go near Tweek anyway." David said. "He's got some problems."

I frowned. "What do you mean?" I was hoping I could get an answer for maybe why he was swinging an actual samurai sword in his backyard.

Joseph lowered his voice. "He tried to commit suicide four months ago. Apparently they found him passed out on the floor with an empty bottle of pills in his hand. Ever since then he stays within himself."

"Or maybe he actually wants to make friends but people think he's a freak?"

David shrugged. "I don't wanna have a friend who thinks about suicide, it's depressing." I looked over at Tweek again. He was gone.

Nick packed his trail mix in his bag. He only ate the M&M's. "You guys wanna go eat after this?"

"Yeah sure. Craig, come with us." David smiled at me. "It's a cool pizza place I always wanted to go to."

"I don't really have any money...or ever will, my parents won't give me an allowance."

He laughed. "Ours don't either."

Joe snapped his fingers in realization. "He could work with us at the video store."

"Oh yeah! You should! We're hiring 'young, handsome, looking men' as my boss says. That's why I'm working there." He sweeped back his hair.

"I don't know."

"Come on, it's on the weekends, you'll probably have the afternoon shift so you can just tell your parents you're hanging out with us."

I had nothing to lose. Hell, it was probably my future in a nut shell if I don't get into a college to major in film making.


	4. Holy Shit

My parents should be home by now, but I called my mom earlier letting her know I'd be walking home. I wanted to see more of the neighborhood for myself. Autumn was my favorite season, the constant chilly breeze that blew gently through my face calmed me. Other than cigarettes of course. Sweaters were cozy too.

Thinking of all these nice things, I chuckled to myself because my face was in it's normal resting state. A monotone, dead-pan face that tended to prevent anyone talking to me, resulting in a handful of friends. I'm really not a bad person people think of me as. Sure I can be a cynical asshole at times, and yes, I can be completely oblivious of people's feelings. Sometimes it get's lonely, but I prefer to be alone.

I entered my house, (also having the sheer pleasure of looking at that fucking hideous door I come home to everyday). My mom was setting up family picture framed in the living room. The television was set to Keeping Up With the Kardashians, one of the worst reality shows on air, maybe second to Jersey Shore.

"Hi honey, how was school?" She adjusted the frame on the wall.

I peered at the pictures of Ruby and I as a baby. Little Craig was playing with a sock monkey and on my head was my blue cholo hat. "It was okay. Oh god mom, don't put that picture up. Why would you even frame it?" The other picture was Ruby playing with my guinea pig Stripe as I cried. No one was ever allowed to touch Stripe.

"What? It's cute, look at your fat cheeks." She cooed. "Why'd you have to grow up and become a beanpole?"

"Thanks. Where's dad?"

"He's at his new job. He's going to be staying late getting some paper work done."

"Oh okay, then is it fine if I go with I hang out with some people I met?"

Her face beamed. "You made friends? Aw honey good for you!" Her hands clapped in excitement. "Yeah! Where you going?"

"We're just going to get some pizza, I guess."

Ruby walked in the room eating cereal. "No he's not, he's off to do drugs with his juvenile hoodlum friends as they vandalise property."

"Ruby go in the kitchen and eat that!" Mom shooed her off. "I don't want you spilling milk all over my new couches, the car was enough."

I ran upstairs to my room to quickly change my shirt. Shuffling through my scarce closet, I found a gray striped sweater. Weeks before, I placed a pin on the sweater that said 'English, motherfucker, do you speak it?' I'm not going to take it off.

I trotted past my mom to the front door. "I'll be back later."

"By night okay?"

Closing the hideous door that I plan to burn down soon, I pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Before I could light it, my neighbor's front door slammed shut. It was Tweek walking out of his house, adjusting a brown messenger boy hat on his messy hair.

My lighter stayed lit, but I cringed and instantly dropped the lighter once I felt the growing heat spread through my thumb. Tweek glanced my way but returned to shuffle through his bag, looking for something.

I fumbled grabbing the lighter from the floor, as simple as this task was, my fingers kept slipping. Finally I caught a hold of it. Tweek kept looking at me, but turned to walk the other way.

"Shit..." Angrily, I flung the lighter at the tree.

About two hours later I grabbed a coffee in a super old coffee shop, probably dating back to the 1930's. Old people sat there and read the newspaper, but because of the unintentional vintage interior, a lot of hipsters hung out in the shop, attached to their laptops. And no, I did not see any goth kids.

David texted me earlier that he was going to pick me up. So I waited out by the shops front entrance. A man sat on the outside tables playing his harmonica. Well, he attempted. Every couple of seconds he stopped, trying to get the note right.

A white van lurked toward the coffee shop. It halted right in front of me.

'This is it. I'm going to die. Oh my god.'

I heard the front door slam. I turned to run but heard someone call my name.

"Craig! Let's go!"

I turned back. David was standing by the white van waving me over.

"Oh my fucking god." I panted, clutching my hair in relief. "What the fuck man." I paced back to the van.

David ran up to me. "Hey man, you okay? What's wrong?"

I punched his arm. "You- what seventeen year old, drives a white van?! Do you realize you drive the pedo-mobile?!"

"My dad's friend gave it to me for my birthday." He rubbed his arm. "It's better than no car!"

"That car scares the shit out of anyone you pass by."

David laughed. "Alright, get in the back. We're going to my basement to murder you."

"Not cool man." I shook my head.

Joseph rode shotgun while Nick sat in the back, using a crate as a seat. I can only imagine Nick begging his way to ride shotgun with David.

"Why did you run?" Joe laughed. "Didn't you see us?"

"No! Jesus I would've rather ran than look to see who it was. I like my life, thank you very much."

Nick laughed. "David, I keep telling you to paint this van into the Mystery Machine."

"I'm not going to drive around the city in a Scooby Doo van. I'm thinking of painting it green anyway."

"That's a gay ass color." Nick scoffed. David's eyes darted at Nick through the mirror. "Paint it dark blue or something, you know?" He started singing. _"We're running with the shadows of the night, so baby take my hand it'll be alright, surrender what it means-"_

"Shut up."

"So where are we going?" I asked.

"This place called Franco's. There's usually no one there at this time, so it'll be chill." Joe said.

Several blocks away from the little coffee shop, we pulled up by Franco's. The exterior was just as vintage looking as the little coffee shop. It seems like this neighborhood hasn't built new buildings since the 30's. Nothing was rotting or deteriorating though so it had a nice vibe to it. The word Franco's was painted in white on the brick walls of the place. Inside we we're greeted by an old Italian man.

"Ahh more kids." The old man flung his arms in frustration. "I keep telling you kids to stop coming in my shop if all you're gonna do is loiter." He wore a white dress shirt. His big glasses sat on his big nose and there wasn't a bald spot of his white hair.

"Don't worry Al, we'll buy something." Joe pondered at the menu on the wall behind old man Al. "What do you guys want?" He turned to us.

Nick called out to Joe while sitting down at the table in the back. "Cheese fries!"

"Just get me a slice of pizza." David said. "You?"

I waved my hand. "No thanks, I'm not hungry."

"Come on, it's on me." David persisted.

"Just a hot dog then." I shrugged. "Thanks."

Al punched in our order and announced the total cost. He then called out to the kitchen in the back. "Rose! You got an order, okay? And where's that boy?"

A voice retorted from the kitchen. "He's cleaning up the mess of pasta he dropped."

Al pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know why I hired that boy in the first place."

Eventually our order of food came. The quaint little restaurant was nice. There was hardly anyone here except for the couple in the back. They also sold gelato here. While we all ate the couple approached the gelato case.

"Tweek come on, you got some customers! You can't keep 'em waitin' all day." Al called.

My eyes widened as my face shot in the direction of the gelato stand. Tweek barreled out of the kitchen and stumbled behind the stand. He was a stuttering mess that I couldn't help but find was quite adorable.

"H-hi what would you like?" And to top it off, he wore a brown messenger boy hat.

The man studied the gelato flavors and ordered an espresso flavored one. Tweek's eyes darted back and forth like what the man just ordered was the world's most impossible task. "Okay." He squeaked.

David gave me a weird look. "What's up?"

"Tweek works here?" I asked.

Joe nodded.

Nick laughed. "It's so funny though, eighty percent of the time he messes up watch, watch."

The cup fell from Tweek's hands as he placed the second scoop of gelato. "Augh! No-ack!" He twitched uncontrollably. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Nick busted out laughing. I wanted to punch his stupid smile. The couple that ordered the dessert insisted it was okay and they'd come back another time. They exited the door.

"Damn it Tweek, that's the second time this week!" Al lividly said.

Tweek hid his face in his folded arms on the gelato metal counter.

* * *

When we were done eating and joking around, David headed back to his place. I never even paid attention to the conversations we had because no matter how hard I tried my eyes kept reverting back to Tweek. He even noticed me but didn't really show any reaction towards me. David offered me a ride home but I told him I'd rather walk back home, with my excuse being that I enjoy this weather.

In reality I waited outside the restaurant until it closed, which was about an hour after they left. During that hour I put on my headphones and listened to music. Idly, I nodded my head to the music, looking straight ahead at the street.

"Fleetwood Mac?"

I dimly heard the tiny voice through my headphones. My eyes darted to the side to find Tweek looking at me. His eyes wide with owlish curiosity.

I stammered taking off m headphones. "W-what?"

He pointed at my headphones. "The song, it's by Fleetwood Mac."

"Oh, uh, yeah it-it is."

"I love Fleetwood Mac." He softly grinned, then sang quietly. "Loving you, isn't the right thing to do, how can I-" He continued to hum.

To be honest, I couldn't react at all. I was completely struck with awe he was talking to me. But I finally managed my name. "I'm Craig."

"Tweek." He nodded. His eyes narrowed at my pin on my sweater and gasped. "Where did you get that?"

I was a bit taken back. "What?"

"You're -ack- pin! I love the movie Pulp Fiction!"

"What?"

His fingers formed a gun, his voice lowered. "Say what again, I dare you, I double dare you." He then chuckled.

I just stared at him in complete affixed emotions. He grabbed his bike and waved good-bye to me, riding away.

"Holy shit."


	5. Craig is Definitely Gay

I've always known I was gay, but I wasn't confirmed until I was in third grade. It was my teacher who said so Mr. Garrison. In fact, it was printed right on my report card: CRAIG IS DEFINITELY GAY AND IS VERY GOOD AT FOLLOWING DIRECTIONS.

One day a health instructor visited our classroom to educate us on how the changes in our body throughout puberty will be perfectly normal. I just want to know why our dumbass principal decided it would be okay at the time to have someone project images of human genitals in front of my third grade class. Cartman would be struggling to hold in laughter, but failed. The rest of the class would burst out laughing along with him. Of course Mr. Garrison would try to calm us down, but his eyes landed on me. I was squirming, embarrassed, blushing, trying to hide my face as I sinked down in my seat.

During report card handouts, Mr. Garrison found me standing on the side of his desk, looking more than alarmed and a bit confused. I asked him, "I'm gay?" He looked me over and nodded.

"Why am I gay though?"

"Because you like boys that's why." He leisurely flipped the pages to his magazine. "And there's nothing wrong with that."

My eyes turned to Stan and pointed at him. "Is Stan gay?" Stan was playfully tugging at Kyle's curly hair, and Kyle didn't seem to enjoy it.

"No." Mr. Garrison shrugged. "At least not yet."

That night, I held my big news during dinner after my favorite show, Red Racer.

As we ate my dad asked, "So how are your grades? How's that grade in science doing?" Science was my worst subject at the time.

"Guess what." I said.

My dad stopped chewing and looked at me in anticipation, probably in hopes that I finally got a low B.

"I'm gay."

He spit out his chicken all over the table and stared at the wall for a few minutes in shock.

Well I didn't expect him to be happy that his only son is gay.

Ruby spent the next week crawling on the floor, repeating the word gay while she played with her toys. (A new word she learned!) It took my parents a couple of years, but eventually they got used to it since I never actually showed any stereotypical flamboyancy my dad would've gotten annoyed at.

I've never actually came out to anyone. My friends sort of figure it out time after time. My friend back in South Park, Token, was really cool about it. He knew I was gay, but never said anything about it against me. I didn't know he knew, so for about two weeks I struggled to find the best time to tell him.

There was at the restaurant. "I've meant to tell you this...and I hope you understand..."

At the movies. "Listen, I can understand if you never want to be my friend again but..."

At the gym. (That had to be the worst time, he was half-naked.) "Token...I'm-"

Resting on a bench at the park. "Augh! I have to tell you something!" I shouted clutching my hair. "I'm gay!"

He looked up from his book and smiled. "I know." And went back to reading. Kenny spent the next month slurring sexual innuendos at me, which was the most annoying thing I had to go through. I couldn't eat a hotdog or a popsicle anywhere near a five foot radius by him without hearing 'Enjoying that, Tucker? Mmm bet you are.'

So that's that, and now I can't stop thinking of Tweek. It's like I never actually had a crush except maybe this one kid from fourth grade with Tourette's, I think his name was Thomas or something. Out of the ordinary people fascinate me, and coming from someone like me is kind of weird. I'm so boring and deadpan and shit. But since he talked to me at Franco's, throughout the week I've kept bringing Tweek up out of nowhere in a conversation that was totally irrelevant to him. David gets really annoyed when I mention him. During lunch yesterday, I go, "So what classes does he take?"

"Who?" Nick asks.

Joe rolls his eyes. "Who do you think?"

"Ooh."

"If you're so fucking fascinated with him, why don't you actually go up and talk to him like a normal person?" David said not looking up from his homework.

That shut me up for a second. I pondered for a moment, darting quick glances at Tweek sitting in the corner of the table across from us, again. He was drawing furiously in a black sketchbook.

"Oh my god." Nick's eyes widened, dropping his sandwich. "It's so obvious, why haven't I realized it about you before?"

My head grew unbelievably hot. Please shut up, please no, not now.

Nick narrowed his eyes at me. "You're a stalker."

I just glowered at him, but in my head I let out a huge sigh of relief.

Joe huffed. "He's not a stalker. He's a deranged psychopath."

"You know, I take that as a compliment." I said. "_American Psycho_ happens to be one of my favorite movie."

David checked his schedule. "What's your next class, Craig?"

"Trigonometry, you?"

"Nevermind I have music theory." He stuffed his notebooks in his book bag and stood up to leave for his next class. "See you guys later." I waved back as he walked out the cafeteria.

After school, Joe gave me a ride to Frank's Video Store to start the shift with him. I start work today, but Joe already showed me everything there is to work in this shabby little video store a few days ago. It would resemble Blockbuster, but smaller, and we didn't have to wear uniforms except name tags. Joe put me to arrange the video's on the shelves Nick completely failed to carry out.

Nick arranges the video's according to his own logic. _My Girl_ goes under action/adventure,_ The Breakfast Club_ is shelved in forgein documentaries, and_ Forrest Gump_ is filed under pornography, along with other inspirational classics.

I sigh when I spot that he put_ Kill Bill_ under romantic comedy. "Was Nick dropped as a newborn?"

"He sniffed too many expo markers as a kid." Joe was pointing the remote at the television suspended to the ceiling. "And most likely continues to now."

"What movie are you putting on?"

He didn't answer so I walked over in front of TV. 'Resume play, Marley and Me.' "Marley and Me? Really?"

"I didn't finish it, okay? My girlfriend told me to watch it."

I just rolled me eyes and continued shelving the movies. I heard my boss close the door to his office. Here's the thing about my boss, Frank's really cool until someone goes into the adult section. His office is right next to the adult section, so in a cycle of two hours, he returns to the porn magazines. Most of the time he sits in his room watching _Girl's Gone Wild_ or_ Back Door Sluts_ in his little television set. He does care about the store though, he hired David as manager, Joe and Nick because he thinks if we have workers that look the cashiers from Abercrombie, then we'd attract more customers. I find that hilarious.

The little bell above the door rang. Lo and behold, entered a certain blonde carrying three movies in his hand. I froze in place as my eyes followed him to the Action/Adventure section against the wall. The movies in my hand dropped to the floor as I blinked, shaking my head.

I crept behind each section he was on the other side of. He hasn't spotted me yet, his focus was on trying to grab the movie on the highest shelf. Now I'm not a stalker, but...okay I have no excuse, maybe I am.

I took the courage to finally approach him. He was on his tip toes, his arm stretched out above him struggling to grab a hold of the movie. A few grunts escaped his mouth, his teeth gritted. Being probably four inches taller than him and probably having no problem reaching that top shelf, I raised my arm and plucked the movie from its spot.

'Oh Craig, thank you. You're such a kind, handsome, and valiant man. What would I do without you? How could I ever watched this movie I could easily download online without your long arm to retrieve it? Thank you, and to return the favor, I'll kiss you with my soft lips.' As we ride into the sunset on my horse by a beach.

Just kidding. Instead he almost fell backwards, screeching. "Oh god!" He screamed covering his face, as if I was about smack him with the movie. I just stared at him, dumbfounded.

"I uh." I muttered.

His eye peaked out between his fingers. "Oh, it's you." Hesitantly, he rested his arms back to his sides. "Were you stalking me?!"

"What?!" I asked a bit too loudly. "No?! I wasn't stalking you." I laughed nervously. "Who would? What? That's...crazy."

"How can I trust you? How do I know you aren't just part of the government out to get me?" He accusingly pointed his finger at me.

My eyebrows furrowed together. What the hell was this guy talking about? "Maybe because government officials aren't teenagers who work at a video store?"

"Undercover." He confirmed.

"I'm not an undercover cop." I handed him the movie he was struggling before to get. "I'm Craig Tucker, nice to meet you, I believe we previously met."

"I know."

"I love Quentin Tarantino."

"What?" He asked.

I nodded towards his movie. _"Dusk Till Dawn._"

"Oh...yeah."

Awkward silence.

Then he asked, "By the way, why is _My Girl_ in this section?"

I shook my head. "Don't ask, I still have to rearrange everything in this store. I could return those movies for you."

I walked over to the check out counter with Tweek. When I scanned the movies, Tweek asked if Joe was okay. I looked over at him and he was wiping his face with tissues as he sniffled "Don't die Marley, come on you could do it. Live god damn it, live boy"

"Yeah he's okay." I handed Tweek the movie. "Here you go. We live next to each other right?"

He nodded slowly at me.

I shrugged. He waved at me when he left out the door of the store. "See you tomorrow."

I waved back and walked over to Joe. "Joe."

"What?" He sobbed wiping his nose with his sleeve.

"It's just a movie."

"But- but Marley didn't deserve to die. He was just-oh my god, Marley." He groaned in his hands. "Why are you so happy, anyway?

That's when I realized I had the biggest smile plastered on my stupid face.

* * *

-_ Sorry this chapter took so long, it's only the third week of school and I am drowning in homework. The life of an art student taking AP classes isn't always the most relaxing life. Don't worry you guys, this story actually HAS a plot. You know when you have a million plot bunnies swirling in your head and when you open a word document, your mind goes completely blank? Yep, that's me. Also,** what do you guys think of David?**_


	6. Creep

I decided not to go to lunch and instead wander the halls endlessly in search for Tweek. It took in between class times to ask random students in the hall where Tweek's locker was. They asked why but every time there was a different excuse.

"He's my study partner."

"I need to ask him something."

"I need something from him."

"He needs to return something of mine."

Within every excuse, I got a look of confusion, skepticism, and sometimes even disgust. Eventually the potato girl I talked to in lunch before told me. In return, I had to promise her a box of Wheat Thins.

Yesterday when I was cleaning the video store, I found a bus card lying the floor where I had helped Tweek reach his movie. The card was the golden opportunity to talk to him, the holy grail, cue revelation music.

Of course luckily for me, his locker was two stories up, completely on the other side of the building. After sneering at the stairs in annoyance, I remembered Tweek and dashed up to the third floor.

The halls where pretty empty by now, but I spotted him on the other end of the hall. His arms shuffled inside the locker, stuffing his books and a piles of paper. His small body was drowned in an oversized black and white sweater. My mind was swarming with hesitant thoughts of approaching him. Left foot, right foot.

'Just don't- don't even talk to him, just walk past him and don't look at him.' 'He's saw me. Shit. Game over, I'm done.'

His head snapped in my direction behind him. He jumped a little, startled. "Craig! -ngh-" He twitched.

I awkwardly waved at him and held up his bus card between my fingers. "You left this at the store."

His hands anxiously searched his pockets. "Oh crap -ack-!" I handed him the card. "Thanks..." He averted his eyes away from me and continued to organize his binders, this time with more caution.

I didn't know what else to say, or decide if it was right to make conversation, but his locker caught my eye with photographs of people on the street and vacant landscapes.

"Did you take those?" I asked. He faintly nodded, still unacknowledging me.

I nodded back. "Where is that one at?" I pointed at the picture of the tin man statue.

He frowned. "Oz Park."

"So you're into art? That's cool, I occasionally film little movies or projects but nothing serious. What kind of camera do you use-"

With a loud interrupting sigh, Tweek rolled his eyes and shut his locker. He turned to me and said "Why are you talking to me?" His eyes narrowed.

I was confused. This was not what I expected. "Should I not talk to you?"

He shrugged like I was an idiot.

"If I'm not mistaken, you talked to me first at Franco's. And you obviously didn't have a problem talking to me at the video store last time."

"That's because we weren't in school."

I asked what was wrong with talking to him at school. He said "It's social -ack- suicide! You know the looks you're going to get if anyone sees that we're friends or if you're talking to me?"

I almost lost track of what he was saying when the spark of thought flashed in my head. We're friends?

"People already think I'm crazy, they'll think you're a freak too!" He continued.

"I don't think you're a freak, why should they?"

He groaned and began to walk past me. "Nothing."

"Woah, hey wait." I quickly followed him. "Tweek!" I caught up and stood in front of him. He sneered at me.

"Just let it go, Craig. Forget it." He tried to push past me but I blocked his way again. By the look on his face, I could tell he was getting angrier with me.

"Okay, I won't pry, it's cool. All I want is to be friends." I said. At this, Tweek calmed down a bit, but quickly grew irritated again.

"Why?"

I shrugged. "Because I think you're an interesting person."

"Interesting?!" He fumed. "You think I'm -ngh- interesting? Do you find my little twitches and paranoia fascinating? Does it amuse you? I can't fucking help it, okay?! So don't think you can be friends with me because you like to see me twitch and jump."

"That's not what I meant! I didn't mean it that way!"

"Then what, Craig?!"

I choked on my own words. "I-I don't know, I like you're interests. I've never really met anyone like you. I mean, everyone else at my old hick town school was a bunch of boring robots who I couldn't relate to at all. You appreciate movies and art right? No one else I met did!"

He scoffed. "Whatever." He said nothing more and walked past me. I just raised my arms in defeat and watched him walk away from me.

Throughout the school day, nothing could get me to pay the least bit of attention in class. Even as I was called on to answer a simple math problem, I responded with a 'yes' instead of a number. David and Joe tried making conversation with me, but I constantly spaced out. They decided to leave me alone.

The walk home caused me to empty half of my cigarette packet when I decided to take the long route around the town. Of course I had to put out my cigarette a few feet from my house. I flicked the cigarette stick to the ground and squished it under my shoe, but while doing this, I heard a shutter click somewhere.

I briefly paused, standing completely still and wondered if the sound was going to repeat.

-click-

Where was it coming from?! My head shot in every direction, searching for anyone with a camera to their eye.

For a second, the thought of being followed by a stalker occured through my head, but that just reminded me of Tweek.

-click click-

I can hear the sound came from at least four feet away. The street I live on is always relatively quiet. My neighbors are usually old people who sleep all day inside their houses or look out the window.

-click-

No way. It can't be.

Very slowly and quietly, I crept beside a parked Chevy four feet away from me. I crouched by the trunk and peered to other side of the car.

Tweek was sitting down, scanning through the pictures on his camera.

I was frozen in place, and the situation that was I was now witnessing couldn't possibly be anymore ironic. Unfortunately, a stifled laugh accidentally escaped my mouth.

Tweek heard me and turned to me with a surprised gasp, quickly hiding the camera in his arms.

I smirked. "And I'm the stalker?"

He frowned, the atmosphere then transformed to when I talked to him at school. "What do you want?" He said.

I raised my eyebrows in amusement. "What do I want?" I scoffed. "You're the one being suspiciously secretive, taking PICTURES of me behind a car while I walk home, so I guess the question is, what do YOU want?"

He stood up and walked around the car. "You wouldn't understand." He was walking towards his house.

"As about now, I don't understand anything." I followed him.

"That's the thing!" He turned on his foot facing me again. "You don't understand! I just want to be left alone, okay?! You don't know me so don't think we can be best friends like that."

"What I don't understand is why you talked to me outside of Franco's like you wanted to be friends with me. Or at the video store, you said 'see you later.' You can't just talk to me like that and expect me to forget about you forever, because I wont."

I expected yet another come back from him, but he didn't say anything. His hands twiddled with the camera.

"I'm trying though." I said. "But you build this wall keeping me out. I always see you in lunch alone and I know the things people say about you. I just figured you needed someone, that's all." Up to this point, I knew he just wanted to be left alone, so I started to head towards my house.

Tweek turned around. "It's for my room." He called to me.

I stopped mid track. "What?"

"The pictures I took." He looked back down at his camera again. "I have a wall of people."

Sidling back to him, I asked. "Are these specific people?"

He just shrugged.

"I have a wall of restaurant menus and playbills." I mumbled.

Tweek faintly smiled and chuckled. "Playbills." He whispered.

"Go ahead make fun of me." I said. "But I think a wall filled with photographs of people is really cool."

"You don't think it's creepy?" He looked up at me skeptical.

I shook my head. "No way."

He simply nodded. "I should go now. By the way, I'm sorry if you think of me as a creep."

I shook my head, smiling. "Don't worry, I don't."

I watched him timidly walk back to his house, but when he approached his front door, he said. "Craig!"

"Yeah?"

"I..." His mouth hung open, but just shook his head, entering his house.

That night, I laid down on the platform that connected to my roof. It seemed like my mind was completely void as I watched the cloudy night sky, but I kept thinking what Tweek was going to say to me at his door step. I wanted to forget about him tonight, but old swing music blasting through his window didn't quite help at all.


	7. Blurry Photographs

A month had passed and I could say most of my accomplishments consisted of either talking to Tweek for more than 30 minutes without him panicking and drifting away from me, or staring at him while he would ponder at which movie he should rent. I've learned a few things about Tweek, one of them is he absolutely hates romantic comedies and his weakness is macadamia nut cookies. We walk home sometimes together (yes, I enjoy every minute of it) and I also learned he has a dreaded fear of crossing busy streets. He would step into the street once and retreat back to the sidewalk in half a second, screaming. The people driving would stare and I would have to pull his arm and guide him across the street. I think he's more comfortable around me since he comes up to me for advice on his art work.

I love the way his eyes flicker up at me like a child, which at the same time shoots an overwhelming feeling in me. The way he rants about his favorite movie when I mention something that reminds him. The way he punches me and gets angry at me for taking a crappy picture with his camera. That one time he was hypnotized by Jelly Beans, not by tasting them but how colorful they were and remarked that it was 'miracles'. When I promised him I would take a good picture and if not, I'd buy him Subway cookies. He brings out the ugly gushy lovey feeling in me which I don't do for most people.

Thursday was like any other day except when I spotted Joe and Nick squeezing through the crowd of lingering teenagers. They confronted me and straight up asked, "Alright Craig, what the hell is wrong with you?"

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?" I closed my locker.

"We're talking about how you been spacing out all the time and smiling in the middle of Physics class." Joe said.

"What's wrong with smiling?"

"No one smiles in Physics, or in Literature, or in the middle of the hallway, unless you're talking to someone, but you don't really ever."

"Are you getting high behind the gym with the goth kids?" Nick asked.

"What? No! Look, nothing is wrong with me."

And then, Tweek passed by me trying to keep together a pile of unorganized papers in his arms. He reminded me of the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland who was always worried about being late. I imagined him with bunny ears and a vest, which was...quite adorable.

"There it is again!" Nick pointed at my face. I spaced out and the little smile on my mouth grew again.

Joe smirked. "Are you sure it doesn't have to do with a certain someone?" His eyes darted towards Tweek picking up his papers on the ground by the water fountain.

My eyes grew wide. "Why say that?"

"I'm not blind, I work with you in the video store, Mr. Stalker."

"Ooh." Nick mischievously smiled and repeatedly poked my arm. "What's going on, huh?"

Joe rolled his eyes. "You'd know if you would show up to work once in a while."

I shook my head. "I gotta go to class."

I knew it wasn't going to be long before they knew. I was hoping it wasn't going be as quick as in two months though. During lunch, Joe and Nick constantly caught my involuntary glance towards Tweek and stifled their laughter. David got annoyed, probably feeling left out.

"You're so pathetic, Craig!" Joe laughed. "Now get up and ask Tweek to sit with us!" He commanded. I flipped him off.

"Fuck you, and besides he's an introvert. He's not going to want to sit and talk to you guys."

"Then ask him out after school!" Nick insisted, which caused me to choke on the water I was drinking.

After a series of spurted coughs, I wiped my mouth and said "No way, he's never going to talk to me again." I shook my head at the thought. "I'm going outside." And got up towards the cafeteria doors.

Nick called me. "Only seniors are allowed to go out." But I simply flipped him off.

There was no cameras by the gym doors that lead outside to the teacher's parking lot. I walked across the parking lot and jumped over the small metal gate. During study hall, I don't do much other than read Ernest Hemingway. I got acquainted with potato girl and our conversation lead to her knowledge of hacking into the school's attendance system. She said her inspiration was Ferris Buller's Day Off.

I texted her. _'wanna do me a solid?_'

I lit a cigarette, a few minutes later my phone rang. _'depends.'_ she replied.

_'mark me present at the end of the day.'_

_'I can do that for u, but what are you gonna do for me?'_

_'i got a box of wheat thins and strawberry pop-tarts'_

_'i was thinking of something else ;)'_

I rolled my eyes._ 'im gay'_

_'pop tarts and wheat thins it is'_

I proceeded to skip school and roam around the empty streets. Franco's restaurant was on the other end of the street. I shrugged "Why not?"

When I entered the door to the restaurant, Al was sitting on one of the tables, playing with something in his hand. He turned his head towards me and slide this big glasses upwards.

"How you doing, Craig?" Al went back to poking the object in his hand. There was no one in the restaurant other than one man drinking coffee against the wall of old family memorabilia.

"Fine." I footed towards his table and sat down.

He narrowed his eyes on me, giving me a suspicious look. "Shouldn't you be in school now?"

"Tomorrow's Halloween, they consider it a holiday." I shrugged.

His fingers jabbed the iPhone in his hand violently. "This damn thing. My son told me to buy one of these phones, that it be easier to communicate with him. Damn touch screen and your Rhianna bullshit. They would've stopped making phones after Nokia." He shook his head, chuckling. "And I ain't stupid, I used to skip school all the time when I was your age."

I smirked. "What are you trying to do?" Al handed me the phone, and I saw he was trying to text, but with every word, auto correct completely changed what the intended word was. "Try this Siri app, you just say what you want it to text and it'll type it out by itself."

Al frowned. "Then why can't I just talk on the phone?!"

"The wonders of Apple corporations." I consider Al like the grandpa I never had. He has this natural vibe that can make anyone be comfortable with him. The Italian persuasion. My grandpa's dead, but when we would visit him he'd call me Carlos, and he didn't have Alzheimer's. He set the phone down and rubbed his eyes in frustration, then looked at me. "So what's up with you and my gelato boy, Tweek?"

I rolled my eyes and let out a huge sigh, sinking in my chair. "Is it THAT obvious?! Did the whole city get a notification for my admiration of him?"

"No one told me though." He remarked, pointing to his eyes. "I can see all. When you're married for 35 years, you sense love in the air." He smiled.

"Woah, wait-no. it's not love." I stammered.

He laughed. "Good, because when you love them, they drive you crazy because they know they can. Go easy on him okay? He's not used to having a friend so quickly, let alone an admirer."

I nodded. "I can tell, he builds this wall between us so quickly sometimes." The thought of the little things Tweek does comes into my mind and I smile. "But he's something different." I got up from the table. "See you later Al-ligator."

"Grab a slice of pizza if you want, it's on me."

"Alright, thanks." There were hot slices of pizza sitting on the counter, I folded one and ate it on the walk to my house. The empty streets of working families gave a tranquil yet eerie atmosphere.

I didn't go inside my house, instead I sat on the wooden fence of Tweek's house, waiting. For what?

Not too many things. One in particular I think.

My eyelids slowly sink and my mind only listens to the music flowing through the headphones..

And if I were to ask him out? Then what...? Ugh, just the thought sounds so juvenile and childish, but I know he would never speak to me again. And that's the last thing I want. Why is it that he's the only one that can bring out the gushy disgusting lovey dovey side of me? I mean, when he grabbed a hold of my arm because he wanted my help crossing the street, my stomach felt as if it turned upside down and jumped around- THE GUSHY DISGUSTING LOVEY DOVEY FEELING. At the same time, I want this feeling to go on. The last time I felt like this I think was when I got my guinea pig Stripe, not that I'm comparing a guinea pig to Tweek. What am I saying.

Fifteen minutes had passed with my back leaning against Tweek's wooden fence.

"AAAAHHH!"

My whole body jolted in such a surprise that I almost fell straight on the ground. I blinked rapidly, trying to regain the conscious of reality. "WHAT?! Wha-?!"

There I saw Tweek standing in front of me, clutching desperately at his book bag. He trembled with his ginormous flickering eyes staring at me. "What are you -ack- doing?! Why are you leaning on my porch?! A-and why weren't you at school, Craig!?"

I sighed and pulled off my headphones, happy to see him. "Hello Tweek, you scared me."

"Scared you? I should be the scared one, you weren't there to cross the street with me! I could've died!" He made a sign with his two fingers indicating how close he was to dying. "I was this close to getting my organs splattered all over the street."

"I'm sure no car almost ran you over." I grabbed his shoulders, assuring him of his existence. "You're okay, and I won't leave you again."

He crossed his arms. "Promise."

I rolled my eyes and held my pinky. He looked at my gesture and smirked, but nonetheless intertwined pinkies. When he let go, he looked down and asked, "Why weren't you in school?"

I didn't think he would notice, we had no classes together and I hardly saw him other than lunch. Then I realized the excuse I could tell him will be the most stupid excuse, since he freaked out already about almost dying.

"I'm sure you've had those days where the last thing you want is to be around people, so you skip school?"

"Almost everyday, -ngh- but that doesn't mean I skip school...does that mean you don't want to talk to me?" He mumbled.

I shrugged. "You're an exception. You are definitely someone I would rather talk to than be alone." I nodded my head. Oh god, but I hope that wasn't too much of a hint or move. Shit.

The little squeaks and trembles sputtered out of him. "I need advice on a painting. It's in my room, I'm almost done but I need you to see it."

I nodded. "Yeah, of course."

He grabbed my arm and led me inside his house. "My parents are staying late in the coffee shop."

I instantly thought of those bad movies when that one girl says 'My parents are out of town.' Eventually they have sex, but I have no idea why I'm thinking about that because it is in no way relevant to advice on art work. I wonder why Tweek won't work at his parents coffee shop, maybe because he wouldn't get paid. And why did he say that? Does he not want me to meet his parents? Alright, now I'm over thinking it.

He opened the front door and said to take off my shoes. The kitchen was in the other room, but when I stepped in, the whole house smelled like brewing coffee. It was delicious and hospitable, like entering Harbucks.

"Your house smells like Harbucks." There were several coffee machines scattered around the kitchen, some I suppose brew different types of coffee.

He scoffed. "Don't say that to my parents, they'll kick you out. That's why they'll be out of town in Denver tomorrow, to prevent our shop from being taken over by Harbucks. Like they fucking need anymore corners to put their shit corporate coffee."

"Well, I hope all the best for your parents winning their case." My phone rang in my pocket, my mom had messaged me _'Were r u?'_

I sighed._ 'It's 'where' mom. You've gone to school and learned your grammar already. I'm right next door with my friend, Tweek.'_

_'keep it up smart ass and il take away ur fone.'_ She texted back. 'Fone', really?

Tweek walked towards the staircase and gestured up. "My room's upstairs." I followed him. The house's walls were painted pale green, but his room was a dark sunset red shade. His room matched his personality, a basket case. Quickly scanning the room, I saw stuffed elephants, spoons from different states, Beatles and classical movie memorabilia, hung paintings, an empty bag of Subway cookies, and most importantly, blurry photographs of unrecognizable people on his wall. In the top corner of the photograph collection, there was the picture of me walking to school, it was not blurry.

He kicked the clothes from the floor to the side. "It's a mess, I know. There's no point in cleaning it, I get nervous, have a panic attack and mess everything up again."

"It's alright." But I had the boiling urge to gather all his clothes on the floor and throw it in the laundry. I have this thing with doing people's laundry, especially if I like them. I am a certified creep, I shouldn't even be in his room right now. "Where is your painting though?"

There was a closet by his bed and opened it. Tweek shuffled through his clothes to the back of the closet. "In here!" There was the sound of a door creaking open. My eyebrows furrowed, so I pushed the clothes aside and there was a small door that lead to a very small empty room. The lonely easel stood in the middle of the butcher paper covered room.

A variety of paint was violently splattered on the ceiling and all around the room, mostly red or black.

"Three people."

I turned to him. "What?"

"Only -ngh- three people have seen this room." He pointed to the painting. "There it is..."

Amazing what can be done on canvas by a human's steady hand. It was surreal, the majority of the space was painted black and what was recognizable was the great poet and play writer, Oscar Wilde. His iconic pose before his trails was painted, but Tweek had painted his eyes blank white and scraped the canvas from his mouth, almost like Oscar Wilde was vomiting.

I chuckled in amazement, but Tweek gasped. "It's bad isn't it? That's why you're laughing! -ack- I knew this wasn't a good idea." He buried his face in his hands.

"No! I laughed because I don't know anyone who can paint like you." I insisted. I pulled his hands from his face. "Honestly, I'm happy to know someone as talented as you." I smiled and let go. "So tell me the truth behind it."

He hesitated, but eventually spoke. "I think Oscar Wilde shouldn't see the world in such a cynical way. I love him though. He often contradicts his thoughts, but still spills his heart out in beautiful stanzas. Two years ago I read his novel over and over, almost as if it was my only friend."

I wanted to kiss him. But instead I asked, "So why the blank eyes and scrape?"

He shrugged. "Because I felt like it."

I laughed. "Good enough."

He turned to me and asked "...you're staying in school tomorrow, right?"

I nodded. "And I'll be sure you won't die crossing the street." I leaned in closer and whispered. "I'll guard you with my life."

"Don't die for me! Then who will walk me home?"

I laughed again, and took the initiative of hugging him playfully. "Then we'll run like maniacs across the street together."

But when I hugged him, he didn't say anything, or tremble, or push me away in terror. In fact, I felt his arms hesitantly move upwards and hug me back. We stayed like that for a minute, and I could feel Tweek calm down against me. I only wished that minute would have lasted longer.

Al told me not to fall for anyone, now I understand when he said they can make you go crazy.


End file.
